The day was unusually cold even for a New York winter’s day. The wind wailed relentlessly like a lost child as I stood in the cemetery listening to the minister’s words. Gazing all around me, I saw hundreds of mourners who had come to pay their respects to the man who’d given so much to so many.

But none of them truly felt the loss as I did.

Ashler Blackthorne, the visionary, the businessman, and most of all, my father.

As the wind whipped my long black overcoat, I stared at the bronze casket covered in flowers. I felt empty inside. Amber, my secretary, stood at my side. Sensing my pain, she reached out to take my hand.

As soon as the minister stopped speaking, a woman wearing a long, tattered coat came racing over the hill.

“Wait!” she cried waving her hands over her head. Everyone turned to stare at her. I couldn’t tell who she was with her long dark hair obscuring her face.

“Wait, stop the funeral!” she screamed as she staggered over to the minister. He moved back from her his mouth agape at her unexpected outburst.

Deeply offended by this disrespectful outburst during the saddest occasion of my life, I stepped over to the woman.

Reeking of alcohol, the woman swayed on her feet. It was only when I got close to her did I realize who she was.

It was my mother.

“Ashton, oh Ashton,” she cried attempting to hug me.

Seizing her by the wrist, I attempted to remove her.

“How dare you come here! After everything you’ve done!” I hissed into her ear. The alcohol fumes emanating from her were so strong I had to turn away.

“Ashton, is he really gone? Is Ashler gone?” she wailed loudly. Everyone was watching us. The minister stood there holding his Bible unsure of what to do next.

“Who is that?”

“I think it’s his first wife.”

“What was her name again?”

The whispers had started. Feeling disgusted, I grabbed her arm ruthlessly.

“Ashton! I wanted to say goodbye to your father!” She fought me as I tried to drag her away.

“It’s okay, everyone. Just a little misunderstanding.” I gestured to the mourners as people turned to depart the cemetery.

“Ash, are you okay?” Amber touched my arm.

“It’s my mother. Just give us a moment.”

“I’ll just wait in the car.”

I watched as Amber walked back to the limousine.

My mother. How dare she show up after being gone for nearly thirty years? What the hell gave her the right to even be in the same vicinity as me and my father?

“Ashton, please, I want to say goodbye.” She moaned as I continued to pull her over to the side away from the ears of the departing mourners.

“Debra, how dare you show up here? After everything you did to me, to my father? You have NO right!” I was shaking with rage.

“Debra? I’m your mother, Ashton! Your mother!” She pounded her thigh. Revulsion filled me as I looked at her face painted with thick garish makeup. Her lipstick was caked on heavily the color bleeding around her thin lips. Her hair was now dark blonde and streaked with silver. It frizzed out from around her head giving her an even more disheveled appearance. She appeared quite thin as well. Her coat was shabby and stained. Apparently, the years hadn’t been kind to her.

“No, Debra, you are not my mother. You gave birth to me, but that’s it. You left me when I was only seven! Seven! Do you know what that does to a young child? I went crazy after you left! I blamed myself. I thought I’d done something wrong. You know what? Never mind me! What about what you did to Dad, huh? You were cheating on him for YEARS with his best friend!” Thirty plus years of rage spilled forth from my lips. I could feel my blood boil as I watched her pale then shudder.

She reached her hand out to touch my cheek. I pulled away. Who was this hideous woman before me? Some useless drunk off the streets? No, it was my mother.

“Ashton, I love you. I loved your father. I missed the both of you every day after I left.”

“Then why? Why did you leave?” I practically spat the words at her. The icy wind howled through the cemetery causing me to wrap the coat even tighter around me.

She pulled her thin coat about her. Looking around, she saw that all the mourners had departed except for one.

Amber was still waiting in the car for me.

“Is that pretty girl your wife, Ashton?” she whispered peering at Amber staring at us from the limousine.

“No, Debra, she’s not. She’s a friend. Anyway, what business is it of yours? You never answered me. Why did you leave?”

Her gray blue eyes looked sad. Her face sagged more with defeat than with age. This was a woman who life had literally chewed up and spit out. If I hadn’t hated her so much, I would’ve felt sorry for her.

But I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything but hatred toward the woman who’d caused myself and my father such pain.

“Debra,” I prompted.

She stuffed her bare hands into her pockets.

“Ashton, I loved your father, but he was never home. There were issues with your father...Mike was a warm body next to me. I was lonely.” Tears formed in her eyes and she sniffled from the cold.

“Don’t give me that. Yes, Dad worked all the time, but that was so he could give us all the things that we enjoyed. And yes, Debra, you certainly enjoyed the lavish lifestyle all those hours of his work provided.” I balled up my fists tightly in my coat pockets.

She nodded miserably.

“Yes, I did. But, Ashton, there were things going on that you can’t understand.”

I towered over her.

“Try me, Debra. I’m not a child anymore.”

She bit her lip.

“No, Ashton, you’re not. You’ve grown up to be such a handsome young man. You look so much like your father did at your age.” She reached up to brush her fingertips through my hair.

Backing away, I looked at Amber watching us her face full of concern.

“Look, Debra, you picked a great day to reappear in my life after being gone for over thirty years! Today of all days, when I’m honoring the man who looked after me, loved me, and raised me! My heart is shattered, Debra. I can’t do this with you today.” I turned to walk back to the waiting car.

“Ashton! Please don’t go. I want you to understand.” She jumped in front of me.

Searching her gray eyes, I saw what I didn’t want to see. I saw the mommy I had once loved so much. The mommy who’d pushed me in the swing that hung from the huge, old oak tree in our yard. The mommy who’d tucked me in at night and rubbed my aching muscles after playing outside all day. The mommy who’d put me to bed on Christmas Eve after baking cookies for Santa, and who sang ‘Away in the Manger’ before I went to sleep. She was still there inside the body of this drunken, disheveled woman.

As I lost myself in her eyes, the ice that had encased my heart for so long began to melt. But the sharp, stinging pain of her leaving brought me back.

“What is it, Debra? Amber is waiting for me.”

She shifted her weight stomping her feet to warm them.

“Ashton, I’m not well. I guess you can tell that by looking at me. What I did years ago…it wasn’t right. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you write? Pick up a phone and call me? You could’ve done something!” Rage filled me.

“Ashton, I did write. You didn’t get my letters?” She looked perplexed.

“Debra, you didn’t write. You didn’t send me a single fucking birthday card.”

Tears coursed freely down her face.

“Yes, I did, Ashton. I don’t know why your father didn’t give them to you.”

That was it. How dare she blame my father for what she’d done!

“Debra, this conversation is over. Dad wouldn’t have kept anything from me. He was the one who held me night after night when I couldn’t sleep after you left. He’s the one who took care of me all those years after you left us.”

Debra shook her head. She spread her hands helplessly.

“Ashton, I don’t know what to tell you. I did write you a letter every single week until you were eighteen years old. I sent a card every single birthday. I sent a card the day you graduated high school and college. I have every news article ever written about you in a drawer.”

Feeling sick, I wanted to run away from her and never see her again. But something in her eyes told me she was telling me the truth. I couldn’t stand knowing my father would’ve kept something so important from me.

“Debra, I’m leaving now. Keep your apology. I don’t want it. If you feel the need to apologize to someone, go say it to him.” I gestured to my father’s casket still awaiting burial.

Without saying another word, I walked back to the car. Amber opened the door and threw her arms around me.

“Oh, Ash, I’m so sorry. How could she show up today?”

As I held Amber tightly, I watched my mother slowly stagger over to my father’s casket. She sat down on one of the green velvet chairs and sobbed into her hands.

“I don’t know, Amber. Something tells me this won’t be the last time I see her.”